


To Change a Heart

by NotSoSpartan



Category: Monster Prom (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Assassin - Freeform, Doctor - Freeform, Kight, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Princess - Freeform, barbarian, dragon - Freeform, dryad, musketeer, necromancer - Freeform, ringleader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-05-17 11:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14831321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotSoSpartan/pseuds/NotSoSpartan
Summary: Based on the fantasy AU by the lovely @artjimena on Twitter! She's like me but better so go check her out!When Princess Miranda Vanderbilt is kidnapped by the sadistic Barbarian King Damien LaVey, it's up to her Knight, Vicky, to save her. If it was a simple case of him wanting money or to start a war, the outcome would be simple - kill the bastard. But he's made it quite clear that his reason for this kidnap is revenge - not on the Vanderbilts, but on the Frankenstein's monster who humiliated him all those years ago.





	1. Blood Money

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Just as a reminder, this AU is entirely @artjimena's (on twitter). I just loved it so much that I couldn't resist writing something for it! Go follow her, she's amazing, her art's amazing, you won't regret it I promise!
> 
> Coincidentally, if you have twitter and you want to know when I've updated this fanfic, follow me @SpartanArtist and I'll be tweeting when a new chapter is up.
> 
> Thanks for your time!

The Vanderbilt Knights had never been an underutilized resource. There was always a noble or a rival Kingdom that needed kicking back into touch, and as King Marlin Vanderbilt’s most elite, the silver and blue clad army were always the first on the battlefield and the last to leave. They were bloodthirsty at best, and trained killers at worst, but above all, they were deadly. But, one knight in particular instilled fear into the hearts of all who encountered her.

Victoria Schmidt, Princess Miranda’s personal guard, and one of the most recent additions to the Battalion was labeled by most as the Electric Eel. It was said that she could call the very lightning from the sky and lay waste the those who opposed her and her King, though this was mostly exaggeration. She was a formidable swordswoman, however, which was precisely why she was normally by Miranda’s side.

“Vicky,” Miranda whined, as she reclined over the edge of her bed to hang half upside down off the edge. “When is something interesting going to happen? I’m so sick of having my serfs be bored for me!”  
“Miri, that’s… that’s not how is works…” her guard muttered from just outside the door. Miri was right - it had been awfully uneventful in the Vanderbilt kingdom of late. There was normally a serf uprising or invading army to be dealt with, but for the last month, things had been unnaturally quiet.  
“What do you mean that isn’t how it works?” The girl muttered. Suddenly, a sharp gasp followed. “Have they been doing it wrong!?” She continued in a conspiratorial whisper.

Vicky sighed. She enjoyed being Miranda’s guard. Really, she did. But the fact that every aspect of her life appeared to be dealt with by serfs wasn’t something she could really get behind. The only parts of her life that the serfs didn’t deal with appeared to be social gatherings since she actually enjoyed that. Having said that though, she had once caught Miri hiding in one of the castle’s alcoves eating jello while two serfs in a dress wobbled around the Great Hall. So she wasn’t sure that she even enjoyed that. “No, Miri,” Vicky said with a laugh. “They aren’t doing it wrong, it’s just hard for people to be bored for you,” she explained, with a smile. “I’m sure things’ll pick up soon.”  
“They better,” Miri muttered, before righting herself with a sigh. “I’m getting bored of the serfs being bored for me…”

As if on queue, a horn blared announcing lunch for the Royal Family and the Vanderbilt Knights who were on site. The princess proceeded to race past her guard and down the stairs, shouting, “Nourishment!” as she went, prompting a smile and a shake of the head from Vicky, who followed at a more sedate pace.

Although she was Miranda’s personal guard, this was the only time of day that she would be away from the mermaid. Miri would sit at the Royal table with her Mother, Father, and siblings, while her guard would be seated with the rest of the Vanderbilt Knights. It was a welcome respite, to be able to speak with people whose primary focus wasn’t what they would get their serfs to do next - that, and there was an ongoing bet that she was aiming to win today.  
“Did you bring it?” One of the guards asked as she reached the table. He was an Oni, his pale blue skin scarred around the hands, but almost untouched anywhere else.   
“Does a Banshee scream at things?” Vicky retorted, before sliding into a seat and staring the Oni down. “Time for some blood money, don’t you think?”   
“We’re the only two who haven’t bled in a while… So I would say so.” _Too bad, Oni boy._ She thought. _Frankenstein’s Monsters don’t bleed._

 

Miranda watched as her guard sat down at the Knight’s table, her serfs already filing in to sit at the table at the other end of the hall. “Daddy?” She asked as she took her seat. “When are things going to get interesting again?”  
“Don’t worry, my child,” The King said, interlacing his fingers. “There’s a barbarian village about a weeks travel inland that needs… persuading, that a uniting monarchy is the best course of action. In fact, I’ve decided that your guard - I can’t recall her name - will be going to assist in the discussion.”  
“You mean Vicky?”  
“Yes, yes, that’s the one. She did quite a number on their leader when she qualified for our army, so I’m sure that she’ll be perfect for the job.” As she frowned and opened her mouth to protest, they heard cheering from the Knight’s table - one guard had his head in his hands, a bag of coin in front of him, and the other stood with a triumphant expression on her face. 

“Ha!” Vicky barked, as she snatched the bag, “I win! Better luck next time, Hikaru!” The Oni shifted to look at her, his yellow eyes emotionless, before tutting and turning away from her.   
“Victoria!” The King called, her full attention now on him. “Come up to the Royal table, please.” He motioned with his finger, beckoning her to come closer. She pocketed the coin and made her way over.  
“Yes, your Majesty?” She asked, feeling sweat bead at the base of her hairline. The King made her nervous, as he made most people.

 

He leaned back in his chair, the creaking of wood from the shifting of weight audible. “You remember Damien LaVey, the barbarian you fought, correct?”  
“Of course, your Majesty.”  
“Well, he’s causing me problems. Tomorrow, I want you to ride out with a few of the other Knights to… coerce... him into relinquishing his control of the town. And if he doesn’t listen to reason…” He paused, the remainder of the sentence obvious.  
“I understand.” She retorted with a nod. She was to kill him if he refused.

Serfs began bringing food to the tables as they spoke, one stopping at her side and silently requesting she move, which she did with a yelp of, “Sorry!” before returning her attention to the King. “Choose your Knights, and ride at dawn. Now be gone,” he continued with a shooing motion.

Vicky bowed, ensuring her head was below his own at the deepest part of her bow, before turning and seating herself back at the table. The serf who ate for the King soon arrived at the table to remove his food for consumption elsewhere, where the King wouldn’t have to see, while other plates were placed in front of the other members of the Royal family, and eventually in front of the Knights. 

Vicky mulled over her options as she ate. She knew that Damien would not be an easy target, whether to subdue or kill, so she would need the best. Hikaru, the Oni who had lost to her at blood money, would not be suitable, for example. He was already affiliated with Hell, and though not outwardly a supporter of the Barbarian King, he would find it difficult to act against him without fear for repercussions. There was the Seraphim, Tien, but she wondered if perhaps purification would be a little too harsh, considering he was yet to do any harm. No one could really blame him for being resistant to a hostile takeover - any self-respecting leader would be - but she also knew that the moment he saw her face again, even a single mistake would mean she was as good as dead.

She would have to think long and hard about it. Damien was not about to roll over and admit defeat. Not a chance in Hell.


	2. Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's actually still alive and writing? Spoiler: it's me. Hope you like it!

It took most of her evening, but she selected her team. She eventually settled on Tien, the Seraphim, on the proviso that she kept herself in check unless instructed otherwise, a werewolf who had a personal grudge against the Barbarian King, a gorgon in the hopes that they could turn him to stone if needed, and a couple of the other more elite members. Damien was no pushover, that much was obvious, but he didn’t justify more than a handful of the Vanderbilt Knights, even with his army of barbarians. They were untrained, undisciplined, and nowhere near as lethal as they thought, but that didn’t mean they could be complacent.

As she made her way down the steps from the guard’s quarters and into the hall, where she normally picked up Miranda for the day’s guard duty, she instead waited beside the Royal table to be called by King Marlin. She had to confirm her picks with him before she drafted them, since the King didn’t like not knowing where his Knights were. That was understandable, of course, but when you’d hand-picked a team for a specific cause, and one of them was removed and the dynamic was altered, it was irritating. But there was nothing to be done about it. 

King Marlin took his seat not long after her arrival, calling her with a wave of his hand. She nodded and moved to stand in front of him, adjusting the collar of her undershirt before clearing her throat. “Good morning, your Majesty. I trust you slept well?”  
“Yes, I did. Have you decided on your team?”  
“I have, your Majesty,” she confirmed as she slid the parchment the names were written on across the table. “I hope these will be acceptable for the mission. I feel that we will need a failsafe, so if at all possible I would like to keep either Tien, the seraphim or Valeria, the gorgo-”  
“Yes, yes,” he interrupted, waving her away. “I will keep that in mind.” 

The King looked at the list for no more than five minutes before passing it to a serf, and asking them to confirm that the Knights listed weren’t scheduled for any other duties for the next few weeks. Vicky watched the serf look over the list for a few moments, having herself taken a seat at the Knight’s table. It was looking good, as far as she could tell, but she was forced to look away when others arrived at the table.

The first to arrive was Nerissa, a Selkie girl, who say directly across from Vicky. They were quickly joined by Hikaru the Oni, who was still sulking from is loss the previous day, and Aed, a fire Djinn. They began discussing their duties for the day as others took their seats, some mentioning that they were on night duty, which was universally considered the worst guard duty as there was rarely any excitement. “The last time I was on night duty,” one began, the irritation already evident on his face, “The only thing that happened was a cat fell out a window. It was completely fine - it just fell into some bales of hay for the horses and that was it.”  
“At least you got that,” another said with a bark of laughter. “there was absolutely nothing on my last shift. I’m not going to lie to you all,” she continued, “I got so bored I fell asleep.”

A roar of laughter erupted, confirming what they all knew was true - night shift was the worst. But someone had to do it.

It was then that the serf returned, heading over to the King first to discuss, and then being ordered to go to Vicky. Immediately she dropped out of the conversation, her fellow Knight’s words becoming a low hum against the din of the hall, while she watched the serf intently. He handed the list back to her with a nod, and said, “You have everyone on the list.” He quickly left - serfs were below the Vanderbilt Knights and so weren’t allowed to be in their company any longer than needed - and disappeared out of the hall. Vicky unfurled her list. There were badly scrawled words next to some of the names. Ironically, ‘night shift?’ was one of them, but it had been crossed out. Perfect, she thought. “Alright, I want everyone on this list outside in the stables in twenty minutes!” She slammed the list on the table. “Looks like I just got one of your off night duty.”

She smirked as she heard the others jump the list, those listed for the night shift more eager than others, and continued towards the stables where her steed waited patiently. A lot of the horses that belonged to the Knights were very similar, or at least, to Vicky they were. But that may have been because her mount was so distinctive. Not everyone could say they rode a unicorn at work. “Good morning,” she muttered. “We’re going to be having a busy few weeks,” she continued as she patted it’s neck, “So we’d best get you into shape, eh?”

 

As the last of her group arrived in the stables, she turned to address them. Some had wider grins than others - namely the one that had escaped night duty and another who had been on the backup list - but they all seemed pleased to be leaving the castle for action. They readied their mounts, draping blankets of the Vanderbilt’s family crest over their backs before saddling and riding out. Vicky explained what they were going to do as they made ready. There were cheers from a few, smiles from others, and disinterest from the majority, but not one person was against taking down Damien LaVey.

 

It was that very night, after the Squad had left, that everything went sour.

It all started with a fire in the stables. The hay was like kindling, which set light to the building, and in turn let the fire spread. As the serfs fought the fire, the Knights searched for the arsonist. But they wouldn’t find him where they were looking. He was already inside the castle walls, and making his way to his destination.

He hid in alcoves as castle staff marched past. He didn’t know where he was going exactly, but he had a rough idea. “They keep the princess in the tallest tower,” he muttered with a sneer. “And I have a feeling that’s exactly where I’ll find you.” He continued to creep his way through the castle, closing in on his destination, his smile becoming more wicked with each step. He had waited five long years. He wasn’t about to give up now.


End file.
